Shadow
by MissTeak
Summary: Tonight, he was neither her brother, 6th division captain and nor was he her lover. Kuchiki Byakuya was merely a man cruelly abandoned by Fate, and Rukia was determined to allow him to love again, even if it meant living in her late sister's shadow.
1. Shadow of my sister

I do not own Bleach or any of the characters involved in this story.

A/N: My first-ever Bleach fanfic! I got so fascinated by the ByaRuki pairing and simply wanted to do something for this amazing duo, and then I discovered so many well-written stories here on . But of course, I am sure many of you agree with me that there are just not enough ByaRuki lemons out here! So here I am, with my little contribution to this fandom.

It starts out with Byakuya being…well, I'd hate to call my smexy boy that, but…a jerk. It is not exactly deliberate, but I hope you guys give us some time to work out the complex emotions behind his actions.

**Shadow**

**Chapter 1: Shadow of my sister**

* * *

Rukia bit back the moan that was trying to force its way past her lips while her body trembled with the mixture of anticipation, fear and the stirrings of a budding love. This was so wrong on a thousand levels, but who was to deny passion when it reverberated so strongly within the traitorous heart?

She knew he was clearly aware too, of how forbidden and wrong this was, but she was also aware of how breaking rules was no longer foreign to him. Rules were meant to be broken, Rukia mused, and if someone like her could comprehend it, nothing more had to be said for Kuchiki Byakuya. But his honor and pride, characteristic of his noble birth, was always standing in the way. Twice, he broke the rules, and twice it would always remain. Rules were nothing but written obligations used to restrict, yet tragically, it was exactly why he was always so conflicted within, and nearly impossible to read.

His open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder blade to the back of her ear drew out another breathy gasp from her, and the fingers that parted her nether lips and caressed her exposed clit told her this was her final opportunity to reject him. She knew he was not a sex fiend, no; he was far too honorable for that. Rather, as she lay with her back pressing against his body, Kuchiki Byakuya was neither her adoptive brother, powerful captain of the sixth division of the Gotei 13, nor was he her lover. He was simply a man.

He was a man whom Fate had cruelly betrayed by taking away the one his heart had learned to love, and tried to compensate for by blessing him with a life of material wealth and prestige. He might come across as being immensely powerful and aloof, but within his heart resided a pathetic soul whose only company was named loneliness. And loneliness was strong and prominent indeed, especially given how vast the Kuchiki manor is. It was just him, her and Grandfather Kuchiki Ginrei. Silence became his soulmate.

Right now, as she found herself in such a compromising situation with him, Rukia did not know what to do. He was obviously upset; it was Hisana's death anniversary, and the usual aloofness displayed earlier on his face did nothing to convince Rukia. The wounds were still raw as they had been fifty years ago, and the pain he had been bravely masking must have been amplified a thousand times when he had to give in to the obligation of talking to Rukia about her late sister.

Every detail recounted by him seemed to push him closer to the edge, and it did not help Byakuya that Rukia was simply kneeling opposite him on the tatami. Every second went by with the increasing awareness of just how much the girl resembled Hisana, and each time the name 'Hisana' spilled from his lips bitterly, Rukia would nod with softened eyes. The softened eyes, while uncharacteristic for Rukia, were exactly the same ones Hisana used to look at him with. There was so much tenderness swimming within those mesmerizing orbs, and Kuchiki Byakuya felt the last bit of self-restraint snap when Rukia reached out and gave him an awkward, reassuring pat on the hand.

He missed her so much, and he could not think of a day in which he did not think of her. He thought about everything that had to do with her; her favorite flowers, songs, food, pastimes…everything. There were even times when he found himself wishing like a fool for a miracle, and hoping fervently that he would wake up one day to find her by his side once again. He definitely knew that was wishful thinking on his part, but had always stubbornly shoved that small voice into the recesses of his mind.

As his tongue drew itself languidly over the shell of her ear, sending erotic tingles down the column of her spine, Rukia felt her resolve to escape this situation ebb away gradually like words written in the sand by the shoreline. Every wave of passion and seduction from Byakuya washed her hesitance away, and now, she was simply waiting for him to make her his.

Love constituted a fraction of her feelings at the very most. This was not merely love; she listened to her heart and knew very well, what she was harboring for her adoptive brother was a mixture of gratitude, admiration, respect and…sympathy. She could never ever bring herself to admit this in front of anyone; she wanted everyone to respect Kuchiki Byakuya and their clan, and allow him to remain standing tall on the high pedestal society and people had put him on. He was just _that_ respectable. On top of that, the fact that he had adopted her into the Kuchiki family so selflessly at the expense of breaking rules, something he had striven to uphold his entire life, told Rukia that there was nothing she could not or should not do for this man.

What was her virginity or physical being compared to Byakuya's momentary happiness? He had been deprived of joy for so long – Hisana's death did not merely deprive him of the pleasures of the flesh, but also, deprived him of the pleasures of emotions. It left a zombie behind, and now that the zombie was stirring, Rukia could not bring herself to send it back into the depths of hell again. Hence, despite the initial fear and uneasiness she had felt so strongly when he first kissed her, Rukia had furiously returned the kiss and took the initiative to slip her fumbling virginal hands behind the lapels of his hakama.

Yes, she could give him everything. He had done so much for her; what was a session of physical pleasures offered by her in comparison to his selfless yet silent sacrifices? It was all because of her late sister, wasn't it? Rukia did not really hold memories of Hisana, but filial piety told her she should take care of Byakuya in her sister's place, and not simply him taking care of her. Care should always be a mutual, two-way process. Her powers and ability were definitely limited and insignificant compared to his; but her love and care did not come with a price, and she would make sure he got all of it.

She raised her hand over her shoulder and cradled his head with her arm, drawing sensual circles on his nape while he continued kissing, licking and suckling on the exposed skin along her shoulders. Arching her back into him, she willingly granted him greater access to her body. A long, calloused finger played with the entrance of her moistening nether lips, rubbing up and down the slit to elicit more of the sweet juices, before finally giving in to temptation and pushing the tip of the finger in.

Rukia gasped at the strange invasion of her body; it was merely by an inch at the very most, but still it was a feeling so foreign. Her breath escaped her in short, quick rushes, especially when she felt another foreign sensation – the pressing of something long, stiff and large against her backside. She had not really explored the male anatomy for herself, but instinct told her that was definitely something that belonged to Byakuya. Like the rest of him, it exuded a sense of power, strength and determination.

Then his finger started moving, rubbing against her unexplored vaginal walls, and Rukia bit her lower lip at the rush of new sensations to her senses. She was falling apart, just like the petal blades of his _Senbonzakura_, as he played her body like an instrument in his arms. Incoherent words escaped her lips as she tried to question the strange feelings that had graced her body for the very first time, but he did not reply. "Ah…this…what…" She whimpered softly, tightening her hold on him, only to receive silence again. Rukia ground into his stiff erection, but still, the only reaction from Byakuya was a shuddering intake of breath.

The realization of the lack of verbal response from him sent her into a momentary silence; she knew he was a quiet, stoic person, but this silence was abnormal. Was he just not in the mood for words, or was he simply worried that words would give all his painstakingly created illusions away? Was he unwilling to speak to her for fear of hearing Rukia's deeper, richer voice, instead of hearing Hisana's breathy, high-pitched whispers? It was then when Rukia realized why he had positioned himself behind her all along, preferring this position whereby he had no way of seeing her face as he took pleasures from her and pleasured her in return.

_The complex within him was still so…_she sighed, giving up on finding a suitable term for it.

But all coherent thoughts flew out of her mind when she felt his finger leave to make way for something so much larger, heavier and intimidating. It poised itself at her vaginal entrance, the part of her body which was foreign and unknown to even her, probing at the soft folds there. What was he about to do? Rukia thought, wondering if he was going to put it inside her body like what he had done with his finger. She bent her head to try to catch a glimpse of it, and then she caught sight of the most private part of her adoptive brother, standing firm, proud and reddish, pressing against her womanly areas. It looked strange and forbidden, for wasn't that part of her where her monthly blood came from? She had all along believed it to be filthy and disgusting.

Byakuya's hips shifted behind her, and the heavy organ pressing into her so intimidatingly and sensually slid up and down her weeping core. But how could something so big fit into her? It had to hurt. Yet heavily aroused, Rukia could not hesitate any longer. It was something all women had to do someday, wasn't it? At least, women who had found men to do it with. It sent deliciously romantic waves rising in the recesses of her heart; she was about to do something with Byakuya that only took place between couples.

The arm around Rukia's waist tightened, while another guided the tip of his manhood to her vagina entrance. Byakuya gritted his teeth as he felt the long-forgotten sexual pleasure wash over him with the increasing pressure he was applying onto the female entrance. Drawing the stiffening yet unresisting female body closer to him, he bestowed another row of kisses along her cheek, breathing in the feminine fragrances of her hair. The tight ring of vaginal muscles strained to accommodate his girth, and the female body within his embrace arched and stiffened more before the head of his manhood finally made it past the tightness to slide all the way up to a barrier of skin.

His eyes flew open, and so did hers. The barrier of skin…Byakuya's eyes widened and reality slammed into him like a sledgehammer, reminding him this was indeed not Hisana as he had tried to fool himself into thinking. Hisana was gone, gone with the wind, and she would never return. This was…

"Byakuya-sama…"

He froze at hearing the familiar voice, and the sound of his name uttered by it, complete with the honorific. Byakuya failed to see the face of the woman lying in his arms. If he had seen her face, he would have been able to see the wistful expression of sorrow, accentuated by a selfless, willing smile.

Rukia was not stupid; she knew his reservations; the freshness of her virginal body only served to remind him how she was Kuchiki Rukia, not Hisana. So she called out to him in a pitch of voice she was not too accustomed to speaking in, calling out his name in the way women married into aristocratic families addressed their husbands. If he could not fool himself into allowing his own body this momentary release, Rukia would fool him.

Then she bravely lowered herself onto him, and felt him push upwards at the very same time to breach the barrier within her. A stab of sharp pain was felt, before discomfort set in and Rukia was left weakened and trembling within his arms, which had tightened involuntarily around her as if to comfort her. All she could feel was the dull ache that had set in after the passing of the acute pain, and there was a weird sensation of being filled and stuffed like a toy. Was this how sex was supposed to be like? She wondered. She would have to ask the other females…Rangiku, perhaps?

The only thing that kept her from escaping this discomfort was the strong presence of the man behind her, and the growing knowledge that she was now his. She was the second woman of her family to give herself entirely to the Kuchiki noble family, namely Kuchiki Byakuya. Rukia smiled a smile of satisfaction; in all her years of interaction with her adoptive brother, she had never felt so much life energy from him. His _reiatsu_ was even stronger and more distinct than ever, but instead of it being an entity which barred her out, it was now enveloping her snugly as well.

Then he pulled out of her. Just as she was wondering if that signified the end of the sex and thinking just what was so pleasurable about it, Byakuya thrust forward again to fill her to the hilt with his manhood. Unprepared for the new sensations, Rukia cried out and threw her head back, feeling the soft strands of his hair caress her cheek. The feelings were so intense, so raw and they were threatening to wash her away out into the deep, deep ocean of pleasure.

A few more strokes, hard, measured yet erotic, sent her spiraling. She did not know if she was spiraling up or down, but her mind was simply whirling with no specific direction and she felt like a lone boat in the wild choppy seas. But he was her anchor, and he was holding her tight as the sounds of slick skin slapping against slick skin filled the room, while cries and moans of pleasure danced in the rhythm. She never knew she could elicit groans and soft gasps from her impossibly handsome brother. Rukia found herself smiling weakly despite the intense waves of sensations, but as he pushed so deep into her such that she felt he could not go further, she heard him speak for the first time that night.

"Hisana…"

Then the first tear of the night rolled down from the side of her eyes, as melancholy stabbed mercilessly into her young heart. She was merely a shadow...Hisana's shadow.

_

* * *

_

_To be continued…_

A/N: Please let me know what you think! I am totally sitting at the edge of my seat.


	2. Dying with the night

Standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews for chapter one! I am very grateful for all the positive comments and support – it is my first time writing a Bleach fanfic (I've been active in the Inuyasha fandom) and I had my doubts when I tried to explore Byakuya's psyche. Prior to writing this, all I had done with Byakuya was to give him a little cameo in one of my Sesshoumaru/Kagome stories, "The Third Parties". LOL.

Anyway, here's the new chapter. Enjoy, and do take a bit of time to tell me how you feel.

**Shadow**

**Chapter 2: Dying with the night**

* * *

Just like all shadows, she died with the night.

Where there was no light to shine upon any opaque items and cast shadows on the backdrop.

In the night, Kuchiki Rukia did not exist. All that existed was the memory she was born to resemble; the tragic memory which went by the name Hisana.

She had always prided herself on being strong, composed and independent, but reality was throwing her words back in her face as her traitorous eyes allowed droplets of moisture to escape. It was her first time with a man, but she had felt no pleasure or whatsoever towards the end. Somehow, the angst tearing from within her heart rendered her physical body incapable of feeling anything else. All she knew was him moving within her at a pace that grew almost desperate and maddening towards the end, while her petite frame shook in sync to the erotic rhythm of his thrusting. She had allowed him to do anything he wanted with her body, and no, Rukia had no regrets.

It was Byakuya after all, and he was her undoing. Since they had chosen to embark on this journey of lies, which would undoubtedly leave them shattered and broken towards the end, they would continue it. If Byakuya could fool himself into thinking she was Hisana, then she could always do the same. Rukia told herself, it was okay as long as she did not think too much about it. She could very well just imagine he was treating her as Rukia. Imagination was a compassionate savior in times of need.

She did not know how much time had passed – that was how unfeeling her body had become – and she felt the warmth of his solid back, now slick with perspiration, dissipate. Then she felt him leave her, pulling out to leave nothing but a strange, sticky mess that instantly started to ooze from the quivering hole she had never really explored for herself. But that was not the only hole he left behind, Rukia thought wistfully. Byakuya had successfully left a gaping hole in her heart which was gradually growing.

As they were finally detached from the earlier connection, Rukia sat up with her back to him. She felt the sticky mess from her nether regions come into contact with the _tatami_ underneath their bodies, and immediately moved from her position to examine the mess she had created. She had to bite back a small groan when more of their mixed sexual fluids oozed down along her inner thigh.

Then both of them saw it – the stains of fresh blood, coated with the newly added viscous mixture of pearly white and clear bodily secretions on the mat. His eyes widened as the severity of his impulse came to haunt him like a vengeful spirit, and he took in the sight of her petite frame shuddering in what was unmistakably fear and uneasiness.

"I-" She coughed once to clear her throat; it felt parched and almost sore. "I will replace the _tatami_ mat, Nii-sama…"

That sent another stab of pain to his heart; the magical hour had ended, and reality once again reminded him he was her brother. What they had done was wrong on so many levels. All he could do was nod dumbly.

She caught a glimpse of his nod. Usually, if she had accidentally dirtied the _tatami_, he would have told her to leave it to the servants to clean the mess up. But the mess in front of their eyes was not something they would ever want the servants to see, and Rukia knew this was bound to be a secret from the very beginning. Her nude body was still entirely displayed for his eyes to see, just as his was for her, and it only added to the awkwardness that was starting to form in the air.

Rukia wanted to stand up and remove the _tatami_ mat, but the slow oozing sensation was once again felt between her legs. She could not move without staunching the erotic flow, and to make it worse, Byakuya was still sitting opposite her. It would be so awkward for both of them if she were to stand up and allow him to see her in such a disheveled, _used_ state.

Shifting her hips awkwardly, Rukia tried to conceal her obvious uneasiness and discomfort, until she felt something heavy slip over her shoulders. A sideward glance told her what it was, and as she looked up, she saw his face. It was filled with an expression she could not really decipher – Rukia was never too bright in reading facial expressions – but she could tell it was nothing pleasant. He had already wrapped his black hakama around himself.

"I'll get it."

His deep voice, now devoid of the earlier husky eroticism, was back to how it usually was.

Cold, stoic and detached.

"But-" Rukia made a move to pick the soiled _tatami_ mat up, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She fought to keep an involuntary shudder at bay; the hand was the very same one which had brought her to the heights of heaven and depths of hell. But now, it felt nothing like how it was. His touch on her shoulder lasted ever so briefly, before the pressure lifted and all that was left behind was a ghost of the earlier contact tingling underneath her skin.

Then Byakuya pried the tatami mat out from its frame, while Rukia silently wrapped his sixth division captain's haori around herself tighter. She wondered if this modesty was hypocritical – he had explored everything she had to offer. Was there anything left to hide from him? The angst was the shadow of the earlier passion, just like how she was the shadow of Hisana.

His hands worked quickly, something that Rukia had never expected to see from Byakuya. Sure enough, he was well-known for his speed when it came to _shunpo_ and combat in general. But most of the time, Byakuya had this elegantly languid air which would make anyone else other than him look lazy. He did everything as if his moves were cautiously measured; calm, dignified and assured. Right now, there was no trace of his characteristic behavior. Looking ever so devastatingly handsome, his face was frozen in a mask of concentration, jaw set tight, while hands continued working furiously. Unknown to Rukia, Byakuya was practically drowning in his guilt.

"Is it wrong?" She quietly asked, breaking the silence again.

"We should not have done this."

"But I-"

But was it really so bad? She could not help but think. Was it so embarrassing and so…_unwanted_ to the extent of having to display such eagerness? After all, what had happened had happened, and there was no way they could turn back time on their own actions, could they? She knew what they did was something that took place between a man and a woman, but there were so many things she did not know. For example, what was the white creamy substance in between her legs? Why was there blood? And what was the viscous clear substance mixed in?

Being inexperienced, she had so many questions for him, but no, she decided against asking. It would not do either of them any good to put her honorable Nii-sama in a spot, though he was obviously more experienced than she was and could answer her questions. She could always ask someone else instead…Rangiku, perhaps? So Rukia silently watched as he left with a stiff "I am sorry", without even a backward glance.

Rukia's eyes lowered with the pain of rejection and confusion. There was a feeling growing within her, but it was so taboo – she did not even dare identify the feeling for what it was despite secretly knowing it. So she sat rooted in her spot, silently debating inwardly if she should nip the budding emotions in her heart. Then she fingered the exquisite material the captain's haori was made of, and she brought the fabric up to her nose, inhaling the scent that belonged to him.

It was just so _him_…and then she started crying.

* * *

"Hmm…well that's actually perfectly normal. It will happen only for the first time, and subsequently, it wouldn't be so bad." Rangiku said, taking another bite out of the dried persimmon she was holding in her hand. "It might still hurt a little the second time, but the worst is over, so no worries there."

She could only nod dumbly. So there was nothing to worry too much about.

"Hey, Kuchiki-san," Rangiku's face was lit up with a playfulness that only she was capable of pulling off. An eyebrow was raised, and questioning eyes tried to read Rukia's face for clues. "Who is that guy? Do I know him?"

"Who- What?!" Rukia coughed, trying to keep the rising tide of warmth in her face away.

"Is it…Kurosaki Ichigo?" The other woman guessed, raising a finger before adding another. "Abarai Renji?"

The younger shinigami kept her lips pursed tight – she would not say a word. Rangiku was crafty at times; she had to be careful.

"Hmm…it can't possibly be Ukitake-taichou, can it? Nah, he is most probably not strong enough for that. Zaraki Kenpachi?" Rangiku frowned and shook her head frantically as if to remove the horrifying image from her head upon associating the latter name with Rukia. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

Rukia managed an awkward smile and shook her head.

"Oh well, I guess that's good too. Just in case word gets around and whoever it was ends up dying an excruciating death at the hands of your Nii-sama's senbonzakura."

Rukia flushed as Byakuya's chiseled face came into her mind once again. She decided she should change the topic after all. "Umm…Matsumoto-san…does it have to be done…you know, out of love?"

"Well, it does not have to be an act of love, I guess. But if there is love involved, I'd say, it makes it feel even better." Rangiku said, her beautiful eyes of blue sparkling with a hint of wistfulness. "What I like best is the part after the actual act…"

Rukia's face must have worn a questioning expression, for Rangiku continued.

"You know, when he wraps his arms around you and hold you tightly to himself. It makes you feel as if nothing on earth could ever hurt you. I loved that feeling; Gin always…" The older woman's voice trailed off, as her eyes suddenly became downcast. Her aura, usually so lively, was muted.

It was clear for all to see that the lieutenant of Tenth Division missed the former captain of the Third Division beyond words could describe. She acted as if she could not care less, but that did not help explain the bottles of _sake_ and the box of dried persimmons in the Tenth Division lieutenant's room. Part of her still longed for Ichimaru Gin, though he was no longer around.

Then Rukia, relatively young as she was, learned a new lesson. Faces were masks. For behind every smile, resided a broken heart. Behind every bout of laughter was nothing but a sad tale to tell, and Rukia felt a connection with Rangiku on this.

In a way they were rather similar – the older woman pined for her lost lover, while Rukia pined for hers. They were both pining for men who might never return the affections again. But Rangiku was definitely luckier. While Gin might have left her with nothing but hopes for a miracle, she once had his love. At the very least, she could firmly tell herself that there was a time when Ichimaru Gin loved her as much as she loved him.

But sadly, Rukia could not say the same for herself.

People say, it is better to have loved and lost than to have not loved at all.

That sounds pretty true to her.

_

* * *

_

_To be continued…_

A/N: I know this is a ByaRuki fic but I want to proclaim my love for Ukitake as well. I LOVE UKITAKE AND HIS CUTENESS.


	3. If you can't see me

Standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: Chapter 3 is here! Thank you to all who have so kindly reviewed – I am really honored you guys enjoy my writing, even though it comes across to me personally as a rather plotless piece of work. I didn't want to delve too deep into a long story because I am new to this fandom after all, so we'll have to make do with a sad little love story for now.

**Shadow**

**Chapter 3: If you can't see me**

* * *

If that night was bad, Rukia did not know what to call the moment she was now caught in.

After going to painstaking lengths simply to avoid seeing Byakuya in the house and at work for almost three days, Rukia found herself seated opposite her stoic brother in the dining hall.

His face displayed no sign of emotion as always, but his posture betrayed him. Those broad, masculine shoulders were stiffly held in a subtle hunch as those ash gray eyes feigned fascination with his dinner, as if the steam rising from the _miso_ soup was intriguing. Then she allowed her exploring eyes to wander from his face down to his neck, where the rise of his Adam's apple was partially visible from behind his scarf. She watched it move slowly as he ate elegantly, and a rush of forbidden sensation assaulted her when she recalled his guttural moans as he took pleasure from her.

Those illegally sexy moans had come from his throat as well.

Her eyes continued with the visual exploration of Byakuya in a way she had never viewed him. Rukia got so caught up in it; she failed to notice she was no longer eating. She was simply holding her rice bowl in her left palm, while her right hand held her chopsticks and hovered above the rice. Moving southwards, she studied his body. He was clothed, of course, in his usual captain's attire. But all she could do was recall the masculine warmth that had radiated off his skin then, and the way his chiseled chest felt against her back.

She did not merely recall; she savored it. Suddenly, the idea of avoiding him seemed stupid. Why was she even hiding in the first place, when she had…enjoyed their closeness somehow?

Sure enough, she was quite sure she had not experienced the "climax" that Rangiku was talking about, but she did like the sense of closeness. For once, she was not a lonely entity who lived under the roof of the Kuchiki manor, and neither was he. Yin and yang came together, and formed a duo which dispelled the loneliness for awhile. Maybe that was why Rangiku appeared to enjoy sex a lot…maybe it did help her forget the pain of Ichimaru Gin's departure, and the loneliness he had left behind. Was she growing to like the idea of sex too? Rukia entertained the thought and shuddered. It was repulsive, wasn't it?

It was so raw, so animalistic and so…wrong.

Rangiku could openly say she missed Gin and the sex that she had enjoyed with him…simply because Gin was not her brother. He was her childhood friend, best friend and lover.

Rukia, on the other hand, addressed Byakuya as 'Nii-sama'. It was so forbidden and dirty.

She closed her eyes.

Then she opened them, and Rukia saw his hands. He had large hands, with calluses brought about by the repeated pressure and friction from years of training in swordsmanship. Long hours of gripping the hilt of a sword had left his right hand with veins and knuckles more pronounced than the left. Those large, slightly rough palms extended into long, tapered fingers, ending in fingernails which were neatly trimmed as always.

That was just him – manly, strong yet refined and elegant. The earlier feelings of repulse at coupling with him dissipated into nothingness, and Rukia found herself yearning for his hands again. So much power resided within those hands – the power to rule the Kuchiki clan, the power to conquer enemies and the power to make her entire being his. With eyes filled with confusion, longing and sadness, she regarded his right middle finger, the one which he had slid into her body that night. That finger had touched her in a place where nothing else had touched, and she…she wanted it to do so again.

Tearing her eyes away from his finger, Rukia saw the empty rice bowl in his palm. There was still half of the grilled eel and other side dishes like radish pickles left on his tray, which means he needed a second serving of rice. But there were no servants around, since Rukia was dining with him and it was the woman's duty to serve the male head of the household.

She cleared her throat, not that she needed it, but to catch his attention.

He looked up, and their eyes met for an instant, before both made a point to evade the visual contact.

Staring straight at his tray, Rukia asked, "Nii-sama, would you like to have a second serving of rice?"

A split second of awkward silence ensued, before she heard his reply. "Aa."

Inclining her head in a mark of acknowledgement, Rukia moved to stand before Byakuya before kneeling down in front of him. She extended her hand. "Please pass your bowl to me, Nii-sama."

And so he did, without touching her hand. It was painfully obvious that he had deliberately avoided coming into physical contact with her. All Rukia felt was the cool base of the lacquered bowl against her open palm.

She removed the lid of the rice bucket, releasing the warm aroma of the freshly-cooked rice, before dutifully scooping some of it to fill the bowl up.

_One scoop for luck, and one scoop for longevity._ She prayed for his well-being.

"Here is your rice, Nii-sama." Rukia held the bowl out with both her hands, and Byakuya reached out with his right hand to take it from her. Perhaps they were equally unsettled, for their hands brushed against each other's in the next instant. Her hands trembled at the unexpected contact, and the rice bowl tilted dangerously to the side, before his hand closed around hers protectively.

She gasped soundlessly, and her entire being stiffened. Both their _reiatsu_ froze in the air like the magnificent arch of Hitsugaya Toushirou's _Hyourinmaru_; icy, overwhelming and intimidating.

The bowl of rice was saved from creating a mess, but their hearts were the ones which were now tangled up once again. Byakuya's hand was still wrapped around Rukia's, and both could feel the forbidden warmth beckon them again, rushing from the point of physical contact to their minds in a one-way track. She breathed in, transfixed, watching their hands. Rukia had always been more on the tomboyish side, having grown up with Abarai Renji, but seeing her hands next to Byakuya's made her feel so feminine.

She thought her hands were ugly – they were not really calloused, but neither were they soft or slender. Yet when they were held against his, they appeared to be so feminine, so weak, and so dependable on him. Rukia liked the idea of that, and she allowed a small smile to grace her lips.

Then the warmth was gone.

He was the one who broke the contact first.

Removing the bowl from her hands, Byakuya left her kneeling in front of him with her palms open, cradling nothing but thin air. The smile vanished from her lips, and Rukia's fingers closed around the emptiness ever so slowly.

"Thank you." His voice was detached and professional once again, as if she was nothing but his subordinate whose duty was to serve him. She looked up at him, hoping to detect a trace of emotion which could pave a way to his heart, only to find the usual mask frozen in place. Silence grew thick in the heavy air again as she stubbornly remained in her position, refusing to budge. He, on the other hand, was fervently praying for her to move. There was a line between them, and he had already crossed it once. Byakuya could not allow himself to do it again.

He tried to pretend he could not see, and picked up his chopsticks, intending to continue with the meal as if nothing had happened.

"Nii-sama." Rukia's voice rang clear in the emptiness of the dining hall. "Do you regret it?"

He did not answer her.

He could not answer her.

Rukia looked at his handsome face contort ever so slightly with dilemma, and before he could do any more to evade her resolve, she had pushed his food tray aside. She had conveniently pushed her rational thinking aside as well.

There was now nothing between them on the _tatami_, perhaps with the exception of the invisible barrier of ice he had chosen to lock himself in. But she was determined to chip at it; someone so perfect and so wonderful like Byakuya should never be allowed to suffer in silence. She hated the idea of him living in sorrow, guilt, loneliness and pain. If she could make those negative feelings disappear, Rukia decided she would do anything, even at the expense of her body, her sanity and her dignity. He meant so much to her; he was her everything.

Rukia would willingly die under the blades of cherry blossom petals.

For him, just for him. Anything for him.

She closed the distance between them, moving forward on her knees to throw her arms around him, pulling him into her embrace. Lifting herself up on her knees so she could be taller, Rukia cradled his head lovingly, pressing her cheek onto the top of his head. His hair was so soft and smelled fresh and earthy like cherry blossoms after the rain. She inhaled, and whispered ever so softly, "Don't push me away."

His body remained stiff and unyielding in her hold, and Rukia could feel the hesitant pressure from his hands as he reached up to place them on either side of her shoulders. Byakuya was trying to push her away, but it only made her want to hold him tighter.

"Don't…please…don't reject me, Nii-sama." She pleaded in a soft whisper, feeling the familiar sour sensation in the base of her nose again. "I don't regret it in the least."

"You have no idea what you are talking about," He said coldly, adding emphasis in the later part of his sentence. "Rukia."

He had to remind himself – this girl in front of him, who was slowly setting his blood on fire, was his adopted sister Kuchiki Rukia. They share the same family name…she cannot be more than a sister to him.

"Why do you run?" She continued asking, fighting his half-hearted attempts at pushing her away. His reiatsu, usually so rich and calm, was almost erratic.

"I do not run." Byakuya replied firmly, refusing to give in. He could not fight her advances for too long; the fortress was crumbling, just like how his_ zanpakuto_ transforms into the countless cherry blossom blades. "Rukia, release your hold on me."

She remained unfazed, though her heart was shattering. "Why do you call my name now? Why didn't you call my name…that night, when we were…"

"Cease this ridiculous behavior." His words grew harsher, because his resolve grew thinner. "Leave. Now."

She would defy him. She would defy him if she could bring love back to him.

"Let me love you, Nii-sama. Please." Rukia wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

He tried to push her away with more force, though it was subdued to avoid hurting her, but Rukia held on to him tightly. Byakuya was so warm…yet so cold. "Rukia…you don't know what you're doing. Leave."

"If you can't see me," She released her hold on him, moving away such that her face was right in front of his. She fought the tears that screamed to escape. "Then don't."

With that, Rukia reached up to cover Byakuya's eyes with her hands, before leaning in to seal the distance between them with a kiss on his lips.

_

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_To be continued…_

A/N: Tragic…tragic…I feel terrible for doing this to them. I absolutely adore the forbidden yet beautiful ByaRuki pairing.

Anyway, I am just curious but how many of you dear readers like the Gin/Rangiku pairing too?

HOLLER IF YOU SHARE THE GIN/RAN LOVE! *cheer*


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